


troll on a pole

by iihappydaysii



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Christmas, Elf Sex, Elf on a Shelf, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Microphilia, Mild Angst, Modern AU, elf!brian, man idk it just gets real weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28266717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: John Grey never wanted his child to have an Elf of a Shelf. When his brother Hal circumvents that edict by purchasing Grey's daughter something called a "Troll on a Pole", Grey's not particularly pleased, but there's much more to this so-called troll than meets the eye and Brian the Christmas Elf might be just what the Grey's need to bring back the holiday spirit.
Relationships: (past), Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Lord John Grey/Brian Randall, Lord John Grey/Hector
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38
Collections: Lord John Grey Cocoa and Kink 2020





	troll on a pole

**Author's Note:**

> for Lord John Reading Nook Cocoa and Kink 2020, kink: microphila (which is basically someone is really tiny and someone is really big, if you didn't know). thanks mistresspandora for the title idea lol and for listening to my bullshit the whole time i wrote this.

John Grey had just finished putting up the last of the Christmas decorations—a ceramic Christmas village he’d painted with Hector the first year they’d lived together. They’d been drunk off their arses on mulled wine when they’d made it, so the damn thing looked like an absolute mess. Still he put it up every year, even if it made his heart ache each time he passed by it.

As Grey shut a plastic storage container, he heard the front door click open and then, Willa shout, “Uncle Hal!”

Grey’s stomach dropped as Willa thundered down the hallway in her Frosty the Snowman socks, sliding the last several feet to collide into Grey’s older brother. Hal let out a low _oof_ then wrapped his free arm around Willa and pulled her in for a lopsided hug.

“Merry Christmas, Willa. “ Hal patted her back, then dropped the bag he was carrying onto the ground beside his snow boots.

Grey had yet to move from behind his desk. He had to gather himself before facing Hal. It would be cordial at first in front of Willa. Then, inevitably, she’d run off, and Grey would be forced to endure the long list of reasons every decision in his life thus far had been ignorant and a mistake.

“Where’s your father?” Hal stepped past Willa and farther into their home, where Grey was no longer hidden by the angle of the door to his study. “Ah, there he is.” He patted Willa’s head. “Happy Christmas, John.”

 _Bah Humbug but only to you,_ John thought in his head, but then managed to say “Merry Christmas” anyway, but also, “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on you,” Hal replied. “And I brought an early gift for Willa.”

“ _Really?”_ She perked up onto her toes.

Hal looked over his shoulder, the back to Willa. “It’s over the by door.”

Willa squealed and scurried to the bag. Reluctantly, John walked into the hallway to stand face to face with Hal.

“How have you been, John?”

“Just fine,” Grey replied. “And you?”

“I’ve been well.” Hal hesitated, chewing his bottom lip before saying, “You still working at that place… for the needy—”

“It’s a public middle school, and you know that.” _And we’re off to the fucking races…_

Before the tension could escalate into an argument, Willa interrupted them with a squeaked, “It’s an Elf on the Shelf!”

Grey shot a glare at Hal. Hal knew precisely how he felt about the weird Gremlinesque practice of a creepy elf that supposedly moves around and watches your child and then reports back to an old man whether or not they’ve been naughty… but now he was stuck with the damn thing.

“Papa, look!” Willa held the box up to Grey. “I finally have an elf.”

“I see that,” Grey said, through a false smile. But as he took in the box, he realized his brother hadn’t even managed to purchase a name brand Elf on the Shelf for his niece, but had instead given her something called— _Sweet Jesus—_ a Troll on a Pole.

She hugged Hal again. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” Hal said, looking all too proud of himself with his chin tipped up.

“Uncle Hal, you should stay for dinner,” Willa said.

The thought of several hours listening to his brother’s snide judgmental commentssounded like the last the way Grey wanted to spend his evening. “I’m sure your Uncle Hal has a busy evening and wouldn’t have time for—”

“Quite the opposite, brother,” Hal replied. “I’m free as a bird.”

“Great,” Grey forced through a tight, mirthless smile.

Dinner with Hal was as it always was. Long, arduous— an anfractuous journey through Grey’s shortcomings with his brother as tour guide. You see here on the right we have ‘attended a public university in the states’ and over here on the left is the rare and exotic ‘failed to subject his child to the discipline of a proper British nanny’. They would have gotten to a herd of thinly veiled homophobic comments if it weren’t for Willa’s recitation of the most recent episodes of Paw Patrol. And if that wasn’t awful enough, through the whole damn dinner that elf doll stared Grey down through the cellophane window of his toy box with unsettling his eyes

After dinner, Willa tore into her freakish little elf and read the accompanying story. Something about reporting to Santa whenever your naughty—precisely what Grey had expected. This one at least didn’t have the stipulation about not touching your elf. He’d heard some of the teachers complaining about that with their own kids, one of whom accidentally touched his elf and he ended up crying for an hour because he ‘stole the elf’s magic’.

Willa had been grasping pretty tightly onto the thing all evening, but when Grey sent her up to her room to get ready for bed, she leaned the ginger-haired elf against a throw pillow and scurried upstairs.

As soon as the door to Willa’s room closed, Hal cleared his throat and started in on Grey again. “You could come home for Christmas. It wouldn’t kill you.”

 _Oh, here it comes. The annual guilt trip._ Honestly, Grey wished it were merely an annual guilt trip, but Hal seemed to love shaming Grey every chance he could manage. He’d done it ever since they were kids. Pointed out every flaw Grey had under the guise of ‘helping him’.

“I _will_ be home at Christmas,” Grey replied, casting his gaze to the glittering lights of the lopsided tree by the window.

“London, John. Mum would love to see you, and her grandchild.”

“Mum’s flying out here for the new year. Didn’t she tell you?” Perhaps Hal hadn’t heard and learning of this would be enough to get him to drop the topic all together.

“Yes, she did, though I think it would easier on her to stay at home rather than traveling all the way across the ocean.”

_So much for that._

“Don’t act like I’m being inconsiderate. Mum _wants_ to fly to the states. Besides, she just got back from India. It’s not as if she’s an invalid.” Mum and their stepfather were always traipsing around the globe, sending Willa trinkets from the far-off corners of the map. Hal was being absolutely ridiculous. Not that that was anything new.

Hal sighed. “I don’t understand you, John. The only reason you moved to Virginia was because of Hector’s job, now that he’s gone—“

“And that worked out well for you, didn’t it?” Grey snarled. The last remnants of his civilitybeing frozen out by the callousness in his brother’s tone.

“John.” Grey’s first name was spoken with an air of admonition. “Hector was my friend.”

“And he was _my_ husband and Willa’s father and _this_ town was his home. I know you want Willa and I to move back to London where you can keep an eye on your errant queer little brother.”

“Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I simply miss you?” Hal snapped. “And Willa too. I’d like to see my niece more than once a year but no, that wouldn’t occur to you. You’re too busy casting me as the villain in the imaginary stage play that is your life.”

“Fuck you, Hal,” Grey spat.

A small squeak stuttered out to the left, and they both looked towards the sound. Willa was stood there in candy-striped pajamas with her blanket draped over her arm. “Uh, I’m in my PJs.”

Grey cleared his throat and plastered on a smile for his daughter’s sake. “Good, um. Say good night your uncle. Then go brush your teeth. I’ll tuck you in in a minute.”

She did as Grey asked her, then Hal opened his mouth, but Grey cut him off, “It’s getting late, Hal. I reckon we’ve both had enough of this for tonight.”

Hal frowned but conceded, leaving with the kind of efficiency only he could manage.

Grey sighed, then looked over his shoulder to see the elf, staring back t him. “Oh, what’re you looking at,” he grumbled, then walked away.

He met Willa in her bedroom, which was scattered in an array of odd drawings, dinosaur figurines, stuffed animals and fairy wings. When Willa had been younger, he’d tried keeping it tidier. He’d always been taught to keep his things ‘spic and span’, but Willa had Hector’s unbridled creativity, and he’d grown not to just accept but to appreciate how Willa’s room could act as a physical manifestation of her marvelous little mind.

“Papa? Why don’t you and Uncle Hal get along?”

Grey sighed and stroked back his daughter’s head, giving her a kiss on your forehead. “That’s big people stuff. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Willa crinkled up her nose, obviously unconvinced, but she said nothing more about it. Instead, Willa asked Grey to read her a book. That was far easier than trying to explain his relationship with his older brother, so Grey picked _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ off the shelf, and read out the rhymes. She was asleep before the end, but Grey finished the story anyway, though he didn’t know why. Perhaps he just did not want to leave the Grinch with a heart three sizes too small.

After the rare Who roast beef had been served, Grey returned the book to the shelf, turned off the lamp and slipped out of the bedroom, a new winter duty awaiting him.

The first night Grey tucked the elf between the branches of the Christmas tree. He was oddly warm, skin like very realistic silicone. Perhaps Hal had actually purchased an upscale version of elf on the shelf, rather than a cheap off-brand one. Willa gleefully found the odd thing the next morning just where Grey had left it.

When she arrived home from school, Grey was already there—the middle school ending before the elementary—and he greeted her with a plate of gingerbread men and freshly made hot cocoa, complete with candy canes.

“So, love,” Grey said as he sat a mug of hot chocolate in front of Willa. “What did you name the elf Uncle Hal gave you?”

She wrapped her small hands around the mug and sniffed it. “Mmm… pepperminty,” she said, then, casually, “His name is Brian.”

Grey let out a small laugh, raising one eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to name him something festive? Like… Mr. Jingles?”

“I didn’t pick his name, Papa. He told me his name is Brian.”

Grey patted his daughter on the head. She always had such a strange and big imagination. “Brian it is then.”

The second night Grey nearly forgot to move the elf—Brian, as Willa had said—but just before he turned out the light he remembered, climbed out of bed and made his way into the living room.With the commotion of the day, the elf must’ve slipped down a few branches because when Grey turned on the lights he found the doll flat on his back on the tree skirt. He dusted some tinsel off the elf and slipped him into one of the stockings. It took Willa a while to find him that morning, but when she did she started chattering away at him about all the things she wanted for Christmas. Grey stood nearby taking mental notes in case he’d forgotten to buy her anything. He missed the end of it though because he noticed a line of crushed Doritos on the counter and decided to clean it up before they got ants.

The third night, Grey hid Brian the elf on a bookshelf in his office. At least, that’s where he’d thought he’d hid the thing. But it had been late and he’d been tired and he’d had a second glass of wine. However it had happened, Willa had been running out of the kitchen claiming that Brian had gotten into the cookie jar. _Biscuit tin_ , Grey heard the specter of his brother correct, though Hal was likely back in London by now.

On the fourth night, Grey had called in a babysitter. The younger sister of one of the teacher’s at his school, who’d been watching Willa on and off since Willa was an infant. He’d considered backing out of this date several times, but it felt rude to cancel last minute and Judge Alderdyce—err Larry—was a nice man. A tad shy, awkward. But nice, and it had been nearly half a year since Grey had been on a date of any kind.

At first dinner had been going well, they’d gotten drinks and appetizers, and were managing to have a tolerable conversation about a movie they’d both seen recently, when the judge’s mother called. He ignored it, but when she called two, then three more times, Larry gave in and answered. _Yes, Mother. I know, Mother. I have to go now, Mother._ One more ‘mother’ and Grey would be looking over his shoulder for Anthony Perkins and a can of Hershey’s chocolate syrup.

They managed to make it through dinner with Alderdyce answering only one more of her phone calls, but they ended up skipping dessert so Larry could get home to ‘Mother' before she became ‘truly upset’. They parted with a handshake, and Grey went home feeling quite stupid for even having gone out with the man at all. He should’ve gone straight back, but he didn’t want to explain why he was home so early, so he just drove, winding through the same backroads, doing his best to ignore the turn-offs and shoulders that held the echoes of long-lost passion.

Willa was asleep when he did finally arrive home. He paid Rachel for her time and poured himself a glass of wine or two. Two. It was two glasses of wine, and he vaguely remembered that he had to move the elf. He went to grab it from the kitchen, but it wasn’t there and after an exhaustive search, Grey found it in a pile of stuffed animal’s in Willa’s room by the light of his phone torch. And if he spilled his guts about his shitty, borderline-Hitchcockian date to the oddly realistic looking ginger demon thing, literally who would ever fucking tell. He posed the elf next to a ceramic figurine of Santa on the entry table, said, “Goodnight, Brian” saluted him, because Grey had actually had three glasses of wine, then dragged himself upstairs to go to bed.

The smoke alarm blared, and Grey woke up to breathe in the telltale scent of burnt popcorn. He threw the covers off and ran out of his bedroom in his boxers.

“Willa!” he shouted.

His daughter burst out of her room, hands over her ears. “What’s going on?”

He’d assumed she’d gotten up in the night and tried to make popcorn, but if she hadn’t, then what the hell _was_ going on?

“I don’t know,” Grey said. “Stay behind me.”

Not sure what else to use, he grabbed the unicorn-on-a-stick toy Willa had left in the hallway and held the wooden pole out for makeshift protection. They thudded down the stairs, then turned the corner. Grey wafted the smoke away with his hands, and he heard a strange sound… a small scream. And it wasn’t coming from Grey or Willa.

The microwave was open, billowing smoke and filled with orange flames. On instinct, Grey darted towards the cabinet, whipped open the door and pulled out the fire extinguisher. He released a wave of white spray over the microwave. When the fire was out, Grey finally breathed and that’s when he saw it.

A tiny humanoid form covered in extinguisher fluid dangling from the microwave door. The unicorn fell out of Grey’s hand and clattered on the kitchen tile.

“Can I get a little help?” the thing asked.

Grey was too stunned to move, but Willa darted forward, “Brian!” she shouted, scooping him up.

“Dad, look what you did,” she said, scowling at Grey.

“Look what I…? What, what the hell is happening?”

Willa frowned at him again. “I thought we weren’t supposed to say hell.” She grumbled. “He’s making popcorn.”

“That… that thing is real?”

“Duh. He’s been moving every night, Papa. You know that!”

“Because _I’ve_ been moving it!” Grey snapped, then drew in sharp breath, regretting it, though he wasn’t really sure why given the circumstances.

“You have? Why?”

Grey’s mouth just opened and closed and fuck, he didn’t know what to say.

“Sometimes I get lazy,” Brian said, wiping some of the fire extinguisher goop off his face. “So I ask your dad to help me out.”

“You could just ask _me.”_ Willa put her hand on her hips.

“He’s taller?” Brian’s statement sounded so much like a question that Grey didn’t think she bought it at first, but then Willa just shrugged.

“Oh, okay,” she said. “Um, Brian. Do you want like some of my ken doll’s clothes, since yours are all messed up? I think they’ll fit.”

“Yeah,” the elf replied eagerly. “Thanks, Wills.”

“No problem!” she said and scampered off to her room.

Grey just stared down at Brian, trying to take in all his features. He’d always seemed oddly real, but looking at him now it felt even more obvious that he was, in fact, a living creature. Quite human, even. Just incredibly small.

“You know, man, if you take a picture it will last longer.” Brian grinned. It was warm and boyish. “But just make sure you take it from the left. That’s my good side.”

Willa returned with some of Ken’s clothes and handed them to Brian. Then, she yawned and looked up at Grey. “Papa, can I go back to bed now? I’m tired.”

Grey wasn’t sure how she could sleep at a time like this, though it seemed Willa had known the truth about Brian for a while, so this wasn’t the shock to her that it was to him. “Of course. Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” Willa replied. Night, Papa. Night Brian.”

They both said “good night” back at the same time as Willa rushed back upstairs. Somehow that moment felt so normal that it was abnormal how normal it was and _God_ Grey was about to have an actual breakdown.

However, his mental spiral was momentarily halted when Brian, snapped a small button at the back of his neck, and slowly peeled himself out of the red velvet he’d been draped in. The lines of the small creatures body were not what he had expected from something he’d recently believed to be a doll. He looked, well, quite human. Lithe, nicely muscled. Pale, lightly freckled. And Grey did not mean to notice, yet he did, how those freckles fell from a cluster at the small of the elf’s back down like snowflakes over crest of—to be perfectly frank—stunning buttocks.

The right thing to do then would’ve been to avert his eyes. Instead, he watched. The elf not seeming concerned about modesty at all turned to grab the pair of Willa’s Ken doll jeans and gave Grey a clear view of a tiny, yet perfectly well-proportioned cock.

Just then, impossibly tiny eyes caught Grey’s, and Grey thought perhaps he caught a smirk on Brian’s face as Grey turned abruptly to face the wall.

“You can look now, not that I minded before.”

Grey pivoted back to face Brian and that damn elf actually _winked_ at him!

“ _Christ,”_ Grey spat. “This is too goddamn much.” He left the kitchen and nearly paced a hole in the hallway as he tried to reason out what was happening. It had absolute no success, but when he returned to the kitchen, Brian had moved on to the living room.

He was sitting in the windowsill in those jeans and a tight white t-shirt, curling his bare toes against the ledge.

“So what are you really?” Grey cornered Brian, blocking him into the windowsill with his much, much larger body. “Some kind of science experiment gone wrong? A fairy? A fucking demon? What?”

Brian raised a fine eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder, giving off an air of true puzzlement. “I’m an elf.”

“You’re not an elf. You can’t be.”

“But I could be a demon?”

Grey sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. You could be whatever in God’s name _The Gremlins_ were.”

“In the novelization of the first movie, they’re extra terrestrials of some kind, but as their origin is not addressed in the film, that’s typically not considered canon,” the elf replied.

Grey just blinked at the creature. “Why do you know that?”

“It’s quintessential eighties horror.” Brian shrugged. “And weirdly applicable to the current situation in which we’ve found ourselves, but I promise if you pour water on my back nothing will spawn out of me.”

 _Comforting…_ “So what kind of elf are you, then?”

“I’m one of Santa’s Elves.”

Grey just blinked at him, his hot toddy gripped impossibly tight in his hands. “You’re telling me it’s all real?” he finally managed, shaking his head. He had no idea how to process this, though he was standing here talking to a miniature humanoid whatever-the-fuck so what did he know? “Santa and the North Pole and elves and flying reindeer?”

Brian put both his hands out palms up and shrugged. “Surprise?” he said with an awkward smile.

“No. No way.” Grey muttered, pacing across the hardwood floor. “It’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

Grey stopped in his tracks and sighed, spinning on his heel to face the elf. “Basic physics, but that’s not the... for Christ’s sake, how difficult is it to get on the nice list? Not one person I know has ever reported their child receiving unexpected gifts on Christmas morning.”

“Yeah, because kids are the worst. They’re snotty and sticky. They have terrible grammar.”

Grey raised an eyebrow and gaped at Brian.

“I’m kidding. _Jeez._ Santa doesn’t bring presents. He never has. The presents are like a… metaphor.”

“Then what does he do? What do _you_ do, for that matter? Aren’t elves supposed to make the toys?”

“Yeah, Rudolph. And I ran away to be a dentist. And the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes that day.” Brian laughed to himself. “Elves _do_ make what Santa brings on Christmas, but Santa doesn’t bring toys. He brings... you know that feeling you get when you wake up on Christmas morning and maybe fresh snow is falling outside and you look at your daughter by the tree and there’s just this pure, perfect joy on her face and for that one moment you feel like everything in this whole fucked up world just might be worth it?”

“Yes…”

“Well, that’s _us_.” Brian sighed, his casual attitude giving way to something farm more sober. He turned away from Grey and stared out through the dark, foggy window. “Elves spend our lives rooting around in the snow at the pole searching out pockets of this _particular_ magic, if you will. We’re the only ones that can find it.” He turned away from the window, back to Grey. “The job is cold and boring and incredibly important.” Brian paused for a moment. “So anyway, we gather up all this raw magic, and we take it to Santa’s Workshop and distill it until it’s useful and less volatile. Then, once a year, Jolly Old St. Nicholas takes it all up into the sky and _sprinkle, sprinkle_. It’s enough of that feeling, whatever it is, to keep you humans squeaking on by for another year.”

“Well, shit. So why are you here? You and the other elves on shelves or... trolls on poles?”

Brian shook his head. “Oh, no, um, those are just toys. I... earlier when I said I ran away to be a dentist... that’s closer to the truth. It’s a long story, but it ends with me climbing into one of these boxes and taking a transatlantic flight to an Amazon warehouse, where I was then, purchased by your brother. I wanted to see the world... to live. I know it’s selfish. I know it’s my duty, but…” Brian trailed off. Despite his tiny features, Grey could still make out the all-to-familiar internal conflict.

“I understand,” Grey replied. “I left my family too. I mean I still see them, but... my brother, Hal, well, he’s actually an Earl. I’m a technically a Lord, would you believe it? I come from old money in an old family. My choice to move to the states, marry an American man and become a public school principal, well…” He looked at Brian and felt the creature could read his face and the complicated feelings behind it just as he had done. Why the hell was Grey sharing all of this?

“I understand.” Brian mimicked with a knowing smile, then looked around. “I just wanted to see the world.”

“I don’t think my living room counts as the world.”

“To me?” Brian let out a sad, small huff. “You’d be surprised.”

“Will he? I mean Santa, is he looking for you? Is he worried?” _Does he care? And if he cares, what kind of care is it?_ Grey had so many questions, but many were deeply intrusive and as curious as he was, he still didn’t feel right prying into it.

Brian shrugged. “I don’t know. As far as I know, no elf has ever left the North Pole before. If anyone’s worried about me though, it’s Mrs. Claus. She’s always pestering me to eat my peppermints,” he grumbled. “I guess it’s good for our bones or something. Do humans eat peppermints for their bones?”

Grey let out a small laugh, then shook his head. “No, we drink milk or take calcium supplements.”

“Then why _do_ you eat peppermint?”

“We like the taste.”

Brian’s face scrunched up and he blinked. “That’s weird...”

“Well... what do _you_ like to eat?” Grey asked, feeling this was a far safer question than his earlier curiosities.

The elf perked up. “Those triangles you have in the cupboard,” he replied excitedly.

“Cool Ranch Doritos?”

“Yes!” Brian slouched back against the window and big smile spread across his face. “Man, those were life-changing.”

Grey was surprised at how normal the next few days seemed. Yes, it was a lot to get used to. Brian would pop up in the strangest of places, though he’d always hide somewhere for Willa to find in the morning. But after that he’d eat tiny portions of breakfast with them from Willa’s barbie doll dishes. He’d been staying up at night to get around Grey seeing him, but Brian wasn’t actually nocturnal so he’d adjusted back to a normal sleeping schedule.

Willa didn’t have a barbie doll bed, so they ordered one online, along with a bunch of new clothes. And as odd as it was to admit, Grey had found that one of the best parts of his day were the private conversations he’d have with Brian after Willa had gone to bed. Sometimes they’d last late into the night. Late enough that Grey would feel guilty for it when he’d wake up exhausted and have to drag himself through the day.

Thankfully though, there latest late night had been on a Friday and Willa was at sleepover, so Grey didn’t have to drag himself out of bed until sometime afternoon. At first, he couldn’t find Brian but then eventually, he heard some shuffling noises coming from Willa’s room.

Grey opened the door to find Brian dusting a photo with a Swiffer cloth nearly as big as he was. He tried his best to be helpful around the house, and Grey would be lying if he said it wasn’t endearing.

“Who is he?” Brian asked, looking at the picture on Willa’s desk. “I’ve seen Willa staring at that picture and it felt... personal. I didn’t want to press.”

“That’s... well, he was my husband. Willa’s other father. His name was Hector.” A wistful smile crossed Grey’s face followed by that familiar abrupt pain in his chest that always accompanied thoughts of his late husband. “He passed away two Christmases ago.”

“Oh God, John. That’s terrible.”

Grey nodded. “It was the worst night of my life. It was Christmas Eve and Hectorhad been called into work, I was so mad at him for going, but he was trying to make it home in time for dinner. He called me right before he left. I didn’t answer. I was frustrated with him and busy with Willa.” He let out a breath, trying his best not to go back to that night. “I didn’t answer.”

“Oh John.” Brian looked up at him. “I hope you realize how strong you are.”

Grey let out a broken laugh, resting his hand on the edge of the desk neat the photograph and near Brian. “I don’t feel strong.”

Brian laid his whole hand over the tip of Grey pointer finger. “I know you don’t. That’s why I wanted to remind you that you are, no matter how it may feel.”

“Do you miss it?” Grey asked. “The North Pole?”

Brian shrugged, his hand sliding away from Grey’s finger. “Sometimes. I miss my friends mostly. My family. The Claus’s aren’t bad either. I just I needed to know what else is out there. I’ll go back with him, though. When he gets here. Santa, I mean. So don’t worry. I won’t be the houseguest that never goes home.”

Grey smiled weakly. He didn’t know why he’d assumed that Brian would stay. He wasn’t even sure he had assumed. He just hadn’t really thought about it. But now the prospect of Brian leaving in a few weeks left him feeling… uneasy.

For the next few days, he couldn’t get Brian’s leaving off his mind. Eventually, he decided that if Brian’s time outside the north pole was limited he at least wanted Brian to see something more of the world than his house.

Saturday morning, once Willa had wandered downstairs, Grey announced to her, “Get dressed. We’re going on a road trip.”

Willa yawned and blinked. “Where? Why?”

“Yeah,” Brian replied from where he was learning against the table centerpiece. “Where? Why?”

“Busch Gardens.”

“For the lights? Seriously! We haven’t gone since...” the words floated away as even Willa obviously realized the gravity of them.

Sadness started to pull Grey under, but he managed to let himself feel it, that sharp, horrible sting. Feel it and survive it.

“Your dad always loved it and I know he’d love for you to get to see it again. And Brian, you said you wanted to see the world. Thought this could be a good place to start.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Brian stood up, then clambered down the chair to the floor as if the dining set were a jungle gym. “Let’s go.”

Willa dressed and Brian put on the coat and boots they’d recently ordered. John grabbed a backpack of snacks and the three of loaded into the car. John loaded up his Christmas playlist, and they sang along to “Jingle Bell Rock” and “Run, Run Rudolph” and “Holly Jolly Christmas”. When they got to Busch Gardens and stepped out of the car, Brian climbed into Willa’s arm. They only way they could do this and get away with it would be if Brian pretend to just be Willa’s doll. Grey felt bad about it, but Brian said he didn’t mind. In fact, he seemed quite pleased with the whole venture and was beaming at Grey.

The Christmas display at Busch Gardens in Williamsburg was always fantastic. There was a buzz of energy in the air as families bounced from one event to the next, filling up on cookies and cider, enjoying the decorations and taking photo-ops with Rudolph and his pals. Brian was doing a particularly excellent job pretending to be just a doll, but there were moments when they found themselves alone that they would whisper words to each other or sneak Brian bites of kettle corn and gingerbread.

“Papa, can you carry Brian for a while?” Willa asked. “He has bony elbows.”

“Hey,” Brian pouted a bit too loud, so Grey shushed him through his own laugh.

“Alright. I guess.” Grey wrapped his hand around Brian, accidentally brushing his hand a bit too low.

Brian hissed and Grey muttered an apology as he clutched Brian to his chest, giving him a few out to all the Christmassy sights.

Willa saw a sign for a Christmas tree maze and within moments, they were inside it, breathing in the wonderful scent as they roamed and laughed and searched for an escape none of them seemed in a hurry to find. By the time they did emerge from the piney labyrinth, the sun was setting.

The lights flickered on in a sparkling shock of color that felt like the perfect culmination of their day. Willa was grinning brightly, painted by illumination. It was a contagious grin that left Grey’s cheeks aching. When he looked down at Brian, he found the elf looking up at him. Their eyes met, and whatever it was that shone in that moment was so bright it washed away the glow of every last fairy light.

Ever since Busch Gardens, Brian had managed to occupy an unacceptable amount of Grey’s thoughts. The semester was almost over, and Grey had quite a lot to get sorted beforehand and yet his mind kept drifting away to something Brian had said or done or to something that he couldn’t wait to tell Brian when he got home. If it wasn’t for the fact that Brian was leaving soon, that he was ten inches tall, that he wasn’t even human, and that Grey didn’t get crushes, Grey would think he had a crush on the elf. But as it were, all those things were true and he didn’t. He absolutely didn’t.

That evening was like the ones before them, at least since Brian came, eating dinner and wrapping presents and Grey tapping out Christmas carols on the piano while Brian and Willa sang along with him.

Before Brian’s arrival, Grey would’ve spent his evening alone after Willa went to bed, probably folding laundry and listening to a podcast or an audiobook. Tonight, he was still folding laundry, but he wasn’t alone. Brian was sat beside him on the sofa, folding his own clothes that they’d washed with the rest—a mix of the ken doll clothes that Willa had given him plus the new set they’d purchased online. Rather than the candy-striped red onesie he’d been wearing originally, tonight Brian was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. The thought that if Brian had been human sized, the look would have, well, delectable, came unbidden to his mind. It shocked Grey, and he quickly assured himself that it was merely a passing thought.

Some odd channel Grey never normally watched had been playing _White Christmas_ and Brian had demanded they watch. Despite running from his responsibilities at the North Pole, Brian seemed to still possess a great love of Christmas, perhaps even an excitement that he could indulge in the human festivities he’d only heard of in passing or seen in the films that Santa apparently, occasionally, permitted them to watch.

They’d missed maybe the first twenty minutes of the movie, but there was still a decent amount of it left. They were both drinking apple cider spiked with whiskey, though it had taken a dropper to get the right amount of liquor into the Barbie mug Brian was drinking from.

Once they’d finished the laundry, it was stacked some in the baskets and the rest on the coffee table. Out of the corner of his eye, Grey watched Brian set down his mug, then shift and stretch awkwardly on the sofa, but Grey turned his attention back to the movie. Then, he felt light pressure on his leg followed by an even stronger pressure as Brian climbed from the sofa onto Grey’s leg.

His cock—goddamn the thing—twitched and Grey stuttered out, “W-what are you doing?”

“The clothes are in the way. I couldn’t see.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Grey said, knowing he should think of a different solution to Brian’s problem, but finding himself either entirely incapable or unwilling to do it.

It was fine, perfectly innocent, at first. But slowly… so fucking slowly…Brian started shifting closer and closer until Brian was practically, no _literally,_ leaning against the treacherously hard bulge in his own trousers.

Brian moved against Grey with an intent that Grey couldn’t miss or ignore even under the circumstances. The friction sent a shiver of confusing want through Grey’s long-neglected body. There had been less than a handful of men since Hector, but not in a long while and this, as bizarre as it was, felt nice. Not just physically but he enjoyed Brian’s company. However strange and impossible.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Grey said, panting, as Brian rubbed the length of his small body against the bulge in Grey’s sweatpants.

“Do you want me to stop?” Brian whispered, thrusting against Grey. That tiny t-shirt had rode up his back, revealing those freckles. Grey couldn’t help but touch the warm skin there.

“No,” Grey said. “I should, but I don’t want you to stop.”

So, Brian didn’t. He just tugged his trousers down around his hips and canted his half-naked body against a hill nearly as big as himself. Grey looked down. The dim light of _White Christmas_ cast its glow over the tiny, writhing creature, who made the softest, most delicious moans.

It went on and on, leaving Grey in state of shock and desperate, blinding want. Then, Brian stuttered, shook, and gasped. A small patch of wetness spread onto his aching bulge.

“Fuck,” Grey whined, slipped his hand into boxers and came with two quick, desperate tugs.

“Fuck is right,” the little elf said, rolling off his and onto the sofa cushion.

They both just laid there, breathing, the low sound of the television chattering on in the background the only sound in the room until Brian spoke up again. “That Danny Kaye is a hell of a dancer.”

They’d fallen asleep on the couch together that night after “White Christmas”, and the following night, Willa was still at her friends, so it was easy enough to casually invite Brian to try out his memory foam mattress. Then after that, Willa was always asleep before them and they were always up first. (The kid slept like a rock). The late night talks had moved to this bed, and their discussions ranged from the simple and everyday to the painful and bleak to the impossible and the magical. There was an easiness between them that felt warm and safe. That felt like hope. But there was always that lingering anxiety of the ticking clock that struck on Christmas, when Brian would return to the North Pole and this month would slowly start to feel like a dream. But then…

“What if I… wanted to stay?” came Brian’s voice through the veil of darkness.

“Do you… want to stay?”

There was a long stretch of silence. “Yes. God, yes. I understand if you don’t want—”

“Stay,” said Grey, surprised at how easily the word came. “Brian, you can’t possibly think… of course, I want you to stay.”

Brian turned over to face him in the bed. He was close enough to reach out and place a tiny hand on Grey’s face. “You know I… we never talked about that night, but I do… if I stay here, that’s what I want. _You._ And everything that comes with it. For as long as you want me.”

Grey let out a shaky breath and moved his lips so they were against the palm of Brian’s hand.

“I wish I could kiss you,” Grey whispered in the dark, kissing along Brian’s arm.

“You can.” Brian sighed. “You _are._ ”

“Truly kiss you,” Grey corrected. “Your lips in mine. My tongue in your mouth.”

“I want that too. I do. If this isn’t enough, I—“

“No, Brian,” Grey rushed his words. “I didn’t mean… you’re enough. Exactly as you are. All ten inches of you.”

“Ten and a half.” Brian glared at him.

“Oh come here,” Grey said with a laugh, taking Brian into his hands and tugging the t-shirt off his body. Brain’s skin felt warm in the cool air and felt wonderful against the pad of Grey’s thumb. Beneath his touch, he could feel the quickening patter of Brian’s heart.

“Beautiful,” Grey muttered.

“I know you are,” Brian replied. He laid back on Grey’s chest. His own heart was pounding, and he wondered if the sound would be thunderous to such a small creature. Brian shimmied out of his trousers and as they didn’t exactly make underwear for dolls, Brian was naked and erect. He tugged himself and moaned as he arched against Grey. “Fuck. You smell so good.” Brian rolled over onto his belly, and the warmth of his breath was right beside Grey’s nipple, making him tingle.

Brian licked a tiny line of wetness up Grey’s chest and then wrapped his mouth around his nipple. The comparable size of Brian’s mouth and Grey’s nipple allowed him to lick and suck and bob his head as if it were his prick.

Christ, it was so good. Too good.

Grey’s hand flew between his legs and he squeezed his own bulge. Frantically, he began to kick his sweatpants and boxers down until he was naked too. His own prick curving back and drizzling into his navel.

“Oh Brian!” Grey moaned.

His tiny mouth popped off Grey’s nipple and he licked his lips. “You like that?”

“Dear God in Heaven, yes!”

Brian laughed and turned around to lie on his back again. He gasped.

“What is it?” Grey asked. “ Are you alright?”

“Yeah, um. I’ve just never seen your dick before. It’s as big as me.”

Grey snorted. “It absolutely is not. My prick is six and a half on a good day.”

“Still!” Brian looked over his shoulder at Grey. “I mean I can try to fit it, but I don’t think it will work, even with a magical ass.”

“Your arse is magical now, is it?”

“Too bad you won’t be able to find out for yourself.”

“We’ll see about that,” Grey replied, picking Brian’s naked form up and bending him over so his ass was on Grey’s chin and his legs spread out around him.

“John!” Brian whined. “What the hell are you doing?”

The sight before Grey was strange but far from unpleasant. Those freckles that ran down Brian’s back to his arse, spilled even between his legs and disappeared into the ginger that surrounded the tiniest, pinkest hole he’d ever seen in his life. He let out a shaky breath that made Brian tremble in his hands, then licked a warm, wet stripe between his legs.

His own cock twitched at the thought of was he doing, at the sound of Brian so vocally enjoying it. Grey kept on and on, enjoying just how much Brian was enjoying it. He pulled his mouth away and ran his pinky down that tiny hole. He rubbed softly there.

“ _Please,_ ” Brian begged.

“Christ. You know that I would if I could.” And oh how he would. Grey would take Brian hard and fast and deep if it were possible.

Brian whined. “Give me anything. _Anything._ Please.”

Grey thought as he kept rubbing between Brian’s legs. He wanted to… if he could just think… perhaps, it would be a stretch for Brian, but perhaps…

“Brian… would you want my finger inside you?”

“God, yes.” Brian canted his hips back towards Grey. “Hell, you can stick your whole thumb up there. Just _fuck_ me.”

Grey laughed. “Alright, darling. Settle down.” He fumbled for the lube in his nightstand and after retrieving it, drizzled it down between his legs, then over his own pinky. “This will be a lot.”

Brian full body shivered, then said, “I know. I don’t care.”

Grey was about to press the tip of his finger into Brian, when instead he picked him up and leaned the elf’s naked form against his erect cock. “I want you to touch me while I do this,” Grey growled.

Brian wrapped his arms around Grey’s prick, then licked the delicate skin. His cock dribbled and spilled down over Brian’s face. The sight was so erotic that Grey felt he had no choice, but to give in then, and press the tip of his slick finger through the tightness and inside.

Brian moaned, then let out a string of curses.

“Are you alright?” Grey asked, pausing his movements.

“Yes. Oh my God. _Yes._ It’s incredible. Please, please don’t stop.”

So Grey didn’t stop. He slowly fucked his finger in and out of Brian who was rocking his hot body against Grey’s prick until the friction was too great and too much and the sight of this minuscule naked man clinging to his cock was just too damn sexy to ignore.

“Shit. Fuck,” Grey said and came without much warning in a hot spurting fountain that drenched Brian.

Gasping for breath, Grey barely managed to pull his pinky out of Brian’s arse. The little thing hadn’t come yet and he was a debauched trembling mess and Grey knew just what he needed and just what Grey wanted to do to him. He pulled Brian off his softening cock and lifted his keening body. His tiny prick was twitching and leaking, stiff as an arrow. Grey wrapped his lips around it. Brian’s cock wasn’t even as big around as a straw, but it felt good between his lips, and the slight hint of mint he tasted at first, burst in his mouth just moments later, when Brian cried out and shook and came in delicious drops on his tongue.

Grey kept Brian’s prick between his lips until it was so soft and so small he couldn’t any longer. Then, he sat Brian down on his chest and they both breathed quietly for a few moments. He felt _good. Safe._ This shared intimacy had been nothing like the trysts Grey had had over the years since Hector passed. Those had been purely physical and left him feeling guilty and empty when they were over. Grey didn’t feel any of that now. He just felt glad, however, strange it was, to be here with Brian.

“Did you know your ejaculate tastes like peppermint?” Grey asked, licking his lips and delighting in the leftover deliciousness.

Brian’s little face was all scrunched up and he wiped a hand across your mouth. “Did you know yours doesn’t?”

Grey couldn’t help but laugh. He felt a little guilty for it. He now knew human cum wasn’t the sweet delicacy of the likes of an elf, so the salty musky flavor must’ve come as quite a shock. “Would you like a drink or some gum, perhaps?”

Brow still furrowed, Brian shook his head. “No, it’s not bad. Just unexpected.”

“Do, um, all elves taste like you?” Grey asked. A sudden wave of jealousy swept through him, unbidden and unwanted, at the thought of Brian in sexually comprising position with one of his own kind.

“Oh, no,” Brian said. “We all taste like something Christmasey though. Sugar plums, toffee, marshmallow.”

Grey shifted uncomfortably. “And how many different flavors have you sampled?”

Brian narrowed his small eyes and glared up at Grey. “How many have you?”

Grey sighed, then smiled. “Alright, fair enough.”

Brian let out a small laugh the fell back, resting his little body in the softness at the base of John’s torso. He ran his fingers through the hair there, like he was lounging happily in a field of grass.

“Hey John… when your brother purchased me, do you think this is what he had in mind?”

School was officially out and the whole world had become about one thing: Christmas. The whole word included the Grey home that was bursting at the seams with holiday music and messy gingerbread houses and really fucking weird stories about the North Pole from Brian.

Willa, clever as she was, seemed to notice that something was going on between Brian and Grey, though she never said anything. Thankfully, she didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

She had sent Santa what had to be a record number of letters this year. Brian had told her not to mention him and she said she wouldn’t. Eventually, they’d have to tell her that thought Santa existed he didn’t actually do presents, but for now Grey was content with buying her presents and letting her believe they came from Father Christmas.

They spent Christmas Eve talking to family over Facetime. Hal and his mother of course, which he was happy to see his mom, but things were still icy with Hal, of course. But they also dialed up Hector’s parents. They didn’t do much Christmas anymore, but they were still sweet grandparents, who loved Willa and she happily opened her gifts from them. When that was all done, they sat together on the couch and watched _Home Alone_ by the Christmas tree. Willa curled up against Grey on one side, and Brian laid his tiny hand in his on the other.

When the movie was over, they tucked Willa into bed and she fell asleep to ’Twas The Night Before Christmas. Then, Grey and Brian went off to bed themselves.

Some hours later, Grey woke up to the sound of Brian shouting his name.

“What?” he mumbled, sitting up beside Brian in the bed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Do you hear that?”

Grey blinked, brow furrowing as he tried to listen. “I don’t hear—“ Then, there it was. A clacking sound and… jingle bells?

“Is that? Is Santa flying over?”

“I think… maybe.”

Then there was a hard, loud thud on the roof that shook the house.

“What the fuck?” Grey muttered.

“Oh my God.” Brian said, tensing. “No, no, no.”

“What?”

“He landed. Santa doesn’t land. He flies over. That’s all he has to do. He flies over. I think… I think he knows I’m here.”

Grey’s stomach sank. Could Santa _force_ Brian to go back? Would Brian see the man and feel guilty and choose to go back?

“Papa! Brian!” Willa shouted in the hallway.“I’m going to go see Santa.”

Grey and Brian exchanged a look, then Grey scooped Brian up and bolted from the bed into the hall. He rushed down the stairs after her and laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping Willa from running.

“Let go,” she whined. “I want to meet Santa.”

“Just hold on a second. We don’t know what he wants yet. He might want to take Brian back.”

Willa frowned. “Oh.”

“Yes,” Brian said. “And he doesn’t like to be seen by kids on Christmas night, so it’s best if you stay out of sight, okay?”

“I guess.”

There was clunk in the chimney, and panic jolted through Grey. His voice cracked as he said, “Willa hide behind the couch. Brian you too.”

Brian looked unsure, but whatever Grey communicated in his desperate look must have been enough to convince him because he took off with Willa and tucked into the shadow of the sofa.

A sudden, raucous clamor echoed through the living room, followed by a cloud of black soot belching from the mouth of the old fireplace.

Grey coughed, waving his hand in front of his face. The soot cleared, slow as snow, dusting the sofa and the chairs and the branches of their Christmas tree, to reveal a marvelously impossible sight.

He was draped in a cloak of velvet, a deep lush green like evergreen boughs, with collar and cuffs of lush fur. His stocking cap barely contained his mane of ruddy red hair. This man—if that’s what he was at all—looked less the man out of Coca-Cola commercials and more like something wild from the woods. He brought to mind the warriors of ancient past, a viking perhaps. His eyes were like that of a cat’s, clever and fierce. This man—Santa Claus—was a sight to behold, Grey had to admit.

“I believe ye have something of mine that I’ve been missing,” he said in a distinctly Scottish accent that surprised Grey. Brian hadn’t mentioned it, though he didn’t know why the elf would have thought to do so.

Grey’s throat was tight as he forced out the words. “Who are you?” Feigning ignorance could be the best way to hide Brian’s presence in their house, though Grey was not sure what had led Father Christmas to their home to begin with.

“Ye ken who I am, just as I ken who ye are, John Grey.”

“I should call the police, sir. You’re trespassing in my home.”

Santa Claus— _good God, this really was Santa wasn’t it—_ ignored Grey’s words, opting instead to look down at himself and wrinkle his nose as if he’d just noticed the fireplace debris coating his person. Then, with a flick of his fingers as if he were brushing off a speck of dust, all the soot disappeared, leaving Claus utterly pristine.

“So where is my elf, Grey?” Claus took a step forward. He was a massive man, towering at least a foot above Grey.

“I assure you, I don’t know what you mean.”

Those feline eyes narrowed and he pointed a large, imposing finger at Grey’s nose. “Ye should no’ lie to me, lad. I’ve a great many powers ye canna imagine and dinna think I willna use them just because of my reputation for goodwill towards men.”

“Leave him alone,” Brian said, startling Grey.

Grey whipped his head over his shoulder and hissed, “Brian.”

“It’s alright,” Brian said, pulling his small shoulders back as he strode towards Claus. “I should have never asked you to cover for me.”

 _I don’t mind,_ Grey thought. He truly didn’t. He’d always fought for the people he cared about, for his family, even for Hal, and that’s what Brian had become, even in this short period of time.

“I don’t care who you bloody are,” Grey said to Claus, suddenly emboldened. “If Brian wants to stay, he stays.”

Claus glared at him and, for a moment, Grey worried so-called Saint Nick was going knock him on his arse, but then he just let out a noise in his throat and turned towards Brian. “Ye’ve abandoned yer duty, abandoned yer family, ye’ve broken every sacred rule of elfdom. What do ye have to say for yerself, lad?”

“I don’t have anything to say for myself,” Brian replied. He looked up at Grey, then back to Claus. “Think what you will. I made my choice, and if it led me here, to these people, I would make that choice every time.”

Claus frowned, then pulled back his broad shoulders, looking angry and menacing. “Weel, in that case, I’ll have to show you just how powerful Christmas magic is.” He lifted his hand and, for a moment, Grey pictured him as some sort of jealous demigod about to smote them.

There was a whipping winter wind and a swirl of snow beside Claus that spun and sparkled until it weaved a beautiful woman in a gown of white and silver. A pile of snow fell around her in a ring.

“Whoa…” Willa gasped, finally standing from her hiding place.

The woman smiled at Willa, then glared at Claus. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jamie.”

_Santa’s real name is Jamie?_

“What?” his eyes sparkled, softer now, as he looked at the woman.

“Must you give these poor people a heart attack.”

“Aye, even Santa Claus has to have a wee bit of fun now and again.” He laughed, though he had no bowl full of jelly to speak of.

“Um, Mrs. Claus?” Brian said, sounding meeker than he had before. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you want to answer that, dear?”

Claus cleared his throat. “Aye, aye I will. I didna come here tonight for Brian, I am here to grant a wee lass her Christmas wish.” He pulled an envelope from the pocket of his coat. Grey recognized the crayon scrawl on the cover. To Santa Claus, it read. From Willa Grey.

“You don’t bring presents?” Brian asked, head tilted.

“’Tis no’ a present, but a wish and that is why Mrs. Claus is here. Come here, Lass,” he said to Willa, whose eyes grew wide as dinner plates. “It’s okay. Ye’ve kent me all yer life, have ye no’?”

Willa hesitated, then smiled and scurried forward to stand in front of Santa.

Claus patted her head, then said, “No one better to grant a Christmas wish than a white winter witch, I say.”

“Willa? What did you ask for?”

Claus looked down at Willa gesturing with the letter. “May I?” he asked.

She nodded.

He handed the letter to Grey, who pulled it from between his leather gloves. With slightly shaking fingers, he pulled the paper from its confines and unfolded it. In red waxy letters it read:

_Dear Santa,_

_I know I asked for a telescope, but now I don’t want a gift this year. I have a wish instead, if you can do that. All I want for Christmas this year is for Papa to be happy again._

_Love,_

_Willa_

Grey dropped the letter, a sinking in his chest, and he dropped to the ground in front of Willa. “Baby, look at me.” She turned her body towards him and he stroked his hands over her hair. “You sweet, perfect wonderful girl.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I already have everything I need to be happy. A tear spilled out of Grey’s eye as he pressed his lips to Willa’s forehead. She threw her arms around Grey’s neck and he just held her against him.

When Willa finally pulled back, she sniffled and he realized she had been crying too. She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes and sniffed again. “Santa?”

“Aye, Lady Grey?”

“If you don’t need to help with that, can I ask you for something else instead?”

“I ken that telescope is already under the tree.”

She shook her head. “No, no. Not that.” Her eyes shifted left and down. “Can I whisper it to you?”

“Why no’?” Claus shrugged and then knelt down.

Willa whispered something in his ear and then stepped back.

“Aye, Lass,” he replied. “I reckon we can do that.” Then, Claus leaned over and whispered something in his wife’s ear.

She smiled and nodded. “Brian, would you come over here please? And if everyone else could take a few steps back.

Brian looked uncertain, but he made his way over to Mrs. Claus. She leant down and picked him up and then whispered something in his ear. When she finished whatever she was saying, Brian’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded.

Mrs. Claus set Brian back down on the rug. She wrapped her hand around the amulet around her neck and squeezed it tight, muttering something under her breath. There was an icy chill in the room, that chilled winter wind and then, it was snowing. Snowing so hard, as a matter of fact, that they might has well have been in a blizzard. Grey couldn’t even see his own in front of his face.

Then, as quick as the storm appeared, it was gone, and with it, Father Christmas and the Winter Witch.

Standing just feet in front of him was a sight that made Grey’s knees wobble. A man, lithe and tightly muscled, with flames of tousled red curls on his head. Even with his back turned, Grey knew precisely who it was, but then Brian turned and Christ, was he perfect.

“Brian, you’re…” Grey couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and feeling fingers that now would fit perfectly into his own.

With a look of true wonderment on his face, Brian squeezed his fingers back and stared wide-eyed at Grey. “I’m…” his lips quirked up into a smile. “Taller than you."

“Not by much.” Grey let out a laugh, happy, astonished. He could barely believe his eyes. This was Brian. The same Brian he’d spent days and nights with. The one he’d shared with, the one he’d grown so close to in a way he hadn’t thought was even still possible. And, since the first moment, there had been such a special connection between Brian and Willa. As strange as it was to say, there was no one living he trusted with his daughter as much as he trusted this odd, impossible, beautiful, wonderful elf that was now an odd, impossible, beautiful, wonderful man.

“Dad, look,” Willa said, pointing above their heads.

Grey tilted his chin to see a sprig of fresh mistletoe materializing in a breath of gold glitter. He looked down and his eyes met Brian’s and then, they were kissing.

 _There it is_ , Grey thought.

That feeling, the one that Brian had told him about when they’d first met, that feeling, that magic, mined from the bleak shifting snowbanks of the north, and maybe, just maybe, everything in this whole fucked-up world really was worth it after all.

And did it bother Grey that technically Hal was responsible for his happy ending? Yes, yes it did. But it would bother Hal equally as much, so it all evened out.


End file.
